


Work Song

by Sae_G



Series: To Be Alone [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Dark, Death, Emotions, F/F, I'm so sorry, Pain, Pre Season 4, Soft!Lin, Yeouch, but pain first, im sorry again, secretly married KyaLin, seriously, there's a happy ending though, this is painful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sae_G/pseuds/Sae_G
Summary: Kya is entirely unaware of just how powerful she truly is until Chief of Police, Lin Beifong, is killed, and she discovers she can wake the dead.TW for major character death, fight scenes, and painful emotions.
Relationships: Lin Beifong/Kya II
Series: To Be Alone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124921
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	Work Song

There’s a reason Kya has always lingered in the shadows of the Greats, has never reveled in the power of celebrity or been seduced by the flirtatious call of boastful heroism. She hides her face from pride and scorns arrogance. There’s a modesty to the woman that some would call dishonest. She knows she can help, and those same people call it fraud when she says as much while laying claim to humility. It doesn’t bother her.

It doesn’t bother Kya that she could, with every certainty, proclaim herself highest master over the waters. Her strength is unmatched, but her oath of silence binds her in a secretive solitude that she is grateful for. Her secrets keep her sane.

In her travels, Kya saw many horrors—the kinds that have burned themselves into her eyes, are etched into her mind and replay ceaselessly in her dreams. The screams of mothers freshly removed from their children are a constant ringing in her ears, accompanied by visions of tiny caskets for humans too small to leave the earth, but too dead to truly live. As a healer, this is her curse. As a healer, this is what she keeps secret. As a healer, this is her battleground, and death is her war.

It’s a war she has yet to lose. Her mother may have the title of “Best Healer in the World”, but Kya has _never_ lost a patient. And quietly, she thinks that this is what mothers are for: to raise daughters who are stronger than they are, who step forth into the world with a fiery passion and an iron conviction. Kya knows, deep down and contrary to every modest bone in her body, that Katara has done her job, has raised a daughter far superior to herself. She will never say it aloud, though. Instead, her silence is her armor in her battle against death, and perhaps her fight is selfish as well. Kya fights because she knows that she is the one person with the ability to bring a person back from the vast limbo between life and Spirit. She can ease the physical maladies of everyday life and bring hope back to those to whom it was lost. She fights because, despite her fear of being tied down, there is something about touching the soul of another human being—about reviving the life inside of them and bringing them back stronger, better, healthier than before—that grounds her. It gives her purpose, and it gives her life.

She has also armed herself with wisdom and courage, has learned from healers of every nation, and has mastered practices once thought to be fiction. She shares this knowledge with no one, because no one ever asks. In the Fire Nation, the old healers taught her to center the qi in the body with warmth and light. The Earth Kingdom taught her stability and strength on a molecular level, taught her the importance of a firm hand and a gentle touch. She learned balance and movement from scrolls left dusty in the Air Temples. There’s a fluidity in the way air moves in the human body that she had not expected, and at the time, she thought of her father and how she always believed he was so _flighty_. It turns out, life is created on an inhale and extinguished at its final release. In the swamps, she learned what no waterbender dared to learn. When she reflects on her studies, she realizes that the veins in plants are surprisingly similar to those in the human body in that they run like webs under the skin. With a little concentration, she is able to mend the fracture of those veins in leaves, and eventually, she can reattach entire petals to the stems of flowers. Sometimes, when she’s especially bored, she’ll put her hand against a tree and feel the way the liquid inside thrums through the veiny pathways like a heartbeat. Occasionally, she’ll seal broken limbs back to the trees, as though she were reattaching fingers. Bloodbending is illegal, still, and Kya knows this. But she believes that intention is more prudent than legality, and when she saves a young child from bleeding to death after a Satomobile accident, it becomes a conviction. If she can save lives by manipulating the blood in a human body, then she will, and she will readily face every consequence should they befall her.

There’s only one other thing—only one other person—that can keep Kya grounded, and it’s Lin. Lin, with her strong hands and dark hair. Lin, with her stony personality and rough exterior. Lin, who makes grown men cry and protects innocent lives with her iron fists. Lin, who shyly bites her lip when Kya cups her face, whose eyelashes flutter closed when Kya leans in for a kiss, whose heart races when Kya so much as touches her. It’s Lin, and it always has been.

* * *

They dance around each other for years. Lin is always aloof, and sometimes her indifference persuades Kya that she truly isn’t interested. But then, the metalbender will do something so small, yet so striking, that Kya falls into her circle once again. It isn’t until Kya turns thirty-six that she realizes she has fallen for Lin Beifong, and when she figures it out, she runs. She takes to the mountains, ventures through the forest, and doesn’t see another human being for over a year. When she returns, she expects Lin to be furious with her for disappearing. She expects Lin to shake the earth, to scream, to turn her away. But she doesn’t. Instead, Lin cups her face in her calloused hands and brings her close enough to press their foreheads together. Her eyes slip closed, and she releases a shaky breath before she asks, “Are you done running, now?”

Kya can only nod, and Lin immediately drags her forward into a searing kiss. Their lips meet, and it isn’t angry tongues and teeth and passion like she expects. It’s soft and delicate and full of life. She breathes Lin in, and Lin breathes her out. And then she’s running her hands over the younger woman’s strong shoulders, touching every inch of free skin, until—

When they wake the next morning, they’re a mess of tangled limbs and soft caresses. It’s the first time Kya has ever seen Lin look so at ease and contented in the early morning rays of sun that bleed through the bedroom window. The light drips over her face like honey, and Kya leans in, traces the scars on her cheek before settling her hand under her chin and kissing her softly. “I love you,” she murmurs.

* * *

She leaves on a boat a year later, a month after her father passes, but they settle into a comfortable routine. Kya comes and goes as she pleases, never tied down but grounded in a way she’s sure only Lin can manage. For the first time, she feels safe. It’s ironic, really, because who wouldn’t feel safe with the Chief of Police? But it’s a different kind of safe that Kya feels with Lin. The world isn’t so fast, and the shadows she has always hidden in recede when they’re together. Lin looks at her like she hangs the moon, and Kya is sure that if she is the moon, then Lin must be the stars.

A week after Kya turns fifty, they get married. It’s a small ceremony, only Lin and Kya and the officiant, but for them it is perfect. Lin pulls out an intricately woven collier on black ribbon. A small opal carved into a crescent dangles like a charm, and when she looks up, confused, Lin simply smiles at her, “a waxing crescent moon, because my love for you is always growing.”

Kya sobs then, truly sobs for the first time in her life, and she has never felt so complete. She has never loved someone like this, and she is sure that no one will ever love her the way Lin does. Lin’s love isn’t boastful, it isn’t measured. It’s given freely and openly and _privately_. Kya revels in the private moments they share, away from the world. It’s the only time when Lin is truly _Lin_. They never make public appearances, never have, and Kya sincerely doubts they ever will. It’s the way Lin wants it. It’s the way Kya wants it. Unlike her personal, secret solitude, this is a secret she is happy to share and keep with her wife. It’s between them and only them, locked away by their vows of forever and cherished so greatly that they keep it from prying eyes, protecting it from outsiders.

* * *

When Korra arrives in Republic City a few years later, the secret is much harder to keep. Lin makes more public appearances, and Kya has to stay in the South Pole to help Katara in case Equalists make it down there. Tenzin calls constantly, and when Kya learns of Lin’s injuries, of her resignation, of her _bending_ she is tempted to flee back to Republic City. As has been the case for most of her life, no one pays her much attention, and it’s in these shadows that she lets herself break. She cries herself to sleep each night until Lin arrives to see Katara, and Kya almost scoffs. She should be the one caring for Lin, but her feelings don’t stem from pride or vanity. She wants to feel Lin’s skin against hers, wants to comfort her wife and be comforted in the fact that she is here, and she is alive. When Katara declares that there is no way to restore Lin’s bending, Kya almost breaks again. She doesn’t though, holds herself together so that she can be the pillar of strength this time around. Lin visits her that night, and they cry together, mourn together. The next morning, Korra restores Lin’s bending, and that night, Lin returns to Republic City without her.

When she leaves the South Pole with Tenzin and Bumi, she’s excited at first, but that changes quickly when her younger brother calls her selfish and irresponsible. She bolsters herself in the shadows, locks herself away again, and stews. She has given herself to the world for the majority of her adult life. She has given herself to the war against death, has stood victorious in many of its battles. She fights still, when she’s needed, and she’ll never say a word against it. So, Kya bites her tongue, mentions only their mother and Tenzin’s absence during her time of need. And then, their family issues don’t matter again, because Ikki is still missing, and Kya is growing more and more worried, until finally the girl is found. When her youngest niece returns, Kya is struck by the innocence of the child’s spirit, her ability to forgive and forget so willingly. The waterbender has never had such luxury. For her, innocence died screaming long ago, and the chivalry of forgiveness had fallen on its sword not long after. She vows to reconnect with her brothers, then, because taking her frustrations at her father’s whimsical—and sometimes absent—parenting out on her brother is cowardly and unjust. She finds an old photo of them together, and side by side, the three reminisce in the joys they shared as young children.

A week later, Jinora falls to the clutches of Unalaq in the Spirit World, and Kya blames _herself_ of all people. It’s _her_ fault, and she hates herself for suggesting Jinora be the one to accompany the Avatar into wilds of the spiritual abode. Jinora lays lifeless in front of her, her breath so shallow that Kya has to check if she is dead on several occasions. Her heartbeat slows drastically on their voyage to Katara, and visions of tiny caskets dance once more through Kya’s head. Only this time, Jinora is laying peacefully inside and it’s _all her fault_. Her resolve crumbles, and she weeps silently, once again protected from prying eyes by the cold embrace of the shadows that hide her.

Upon entering the Spirit World with her brothers, Kya is struck by just how beautiful it truly is. The colors are so vibrant, and for a moment, she wishes Lin were here to experience this with her. Lin would love this, but she is not there. Kya hasn’t had many updates about her wife since setting off with Bumi and Tenzin, and it fills her with an aching loneliness that she longs to fill. When they split ways with Mako, Bolin, and Korra to search for the eldest of the airbending children, their venture falls into chaos and confusion. The three siblings wander, lost in dimly lit forest that keeps them twisting and turning for answers. Suddenly, there’s a rumbling in a bush in front of them, and they brace themselves for attack when a face that Kya was sure she would never see again smiles up at her. Iroh grins at the siblings; it’s like they’re children again, staring wide eyed at a man whose stories cajoled them to sleep on more than one restless night. His warning is striking, though. _If you travel too deep into the Spirit World, you could end up in a place where only the lost will ever find you_. Before he leaves, he steps forward and grips her hands, depositing something into her fist before his form fades entirely. When she looks down, there’s a transparent crystal vial of glowing liquid inside, and it sloshes around when she lifts it to her eyes to inspect it. _Spirit water_ , she thinks, draping the thick leather cord around her neck and tucking the vial between her breasts under her bindings. It thrums against her chest like a calming heartbeat.

Her own heartbeat does not stay calm for long, though. Tenzin drags them down the side of a cliff, to a thick, cloudy fog that quickly surrounds them. When she breathes, it’s like she’s breathing it in, but she can’t exhale. It’s suffocating. And then, her vision is going blurry, her brothers disappear, and all that Kya sees is a thirty-two-year-old Lin Beifong. Her heart flutters with anxiety; it’s like she’s falling in love with her all over again, but that fear of falling and being simultaneously tied down are at war with each other in her head. The urge to run is too great, and Kya rips herself away from the two strange men next to her, sprints until her lungs feel like they’re going to burst. She falls to her knees on the cold ground. These shadows around her are different from the ones she seeks solace in. They squeeze her chest, press down on her shoulders until she’s a sputtering mess of incoherent screeching. Someone grabs her hand and pulls, but Kya is too far gone to recognize anything, but then, she’s breathing again. Her mind clears, and she sees Tenzin holding Jinora. Her heart soars at the sight. _Finally_.

When Kya finally makes it back to Republic City, back to _Lin_ , she’s nearly comatose. She sleeps in their bed for days, doesn’t get up except to use the bathroom. After three days, Lin has had enough, and she stoops into a kneeling position beside the bed and lowers her face until Kya is staring right through her eyes. “My love,” she whispers. “Let me in.” Kya isn’t sure if Lin wants to be let into her head or onto the soft mattress, but the pillows next to her are shuffled around until Lin slips under the covers. Her strong arms reach around Kya’s shoulders and pull her onto her chest. At first, Kya doesn’t react. She just sits with her forehead pressed to Lin’s collarbone and breathes her wife in. On an exhale, Lin whispers into her hair, “Let it out, my love. I’m here.” Kya breaks then, and she’s broken more in the past three years than she ever has in her entire life. Lin’s hands rub up and down her back, clutch at the fabric of her night dress in an attempt to pull her even closer. _There are no shadows here_ , Kya thinks, _only Lin_. Her fingers come up to clutch her betrothal necklace, and she raises her other arm to wrap around Lin’s back as her body is shaken with violent sobs.

* * *

The Red Lotus attacks six months later, and after spending most of her time with Lin, Kya is forced to separate from her wife for longer than she would like. Lin goes to chase Korra down, leaves Kya on Air Temple Island with Pema and the kids. She stirs a bit, because the waterbender knows she could be more useful in helping protect the Avatar, but then, she’s grateful she was left behind. Zaheer attacks in the middle of the night, and she is wholly unprepared. They face off on the steps of the Air Temple, Zaheer with sharp gusts of winds and Kya with a powerful gimbal of water. They dance around each other, both predators in their own rights, and when Zaheer strikes out at her, she dodges and releases two whips of water at him. They’re quite evenly matched, Kya thinks, but she holds herself back. It’s a full moon tonight, and the thought to use bloodbending crosses her mind, but she’s a healer. She doesn’t believe in using her bending to harm others. She has the upper hand now, because her bending is incredibly powerful with the moon shining down on her. She can feel the thrum of electricity in her spine tingle down to her fingertips as she lashes out. She manages to land a few hits, but Zaheer is an entirely different _breed_ now. The man who took down her Uncle Sokka with no bending is now a powerful airbender. His training in non-bending combat has proved useful, because Kya recognizes the movement of his attacks, and he couples them with airbending. It’s violent. He has perverted the peaceful practices of an entire nation into violence and destruction, and as Kya watches him, she finds herself distracted by thoughts of her father. Zaheer uses this distraction to his advantage, and he slams her against a wall. She falls to the ground, her vision going black as she watches him escape.

As Kya sits on the stone floor of the dungeon three weeks later, her body on fire with the various injuries inflicted by Ming Hua, the only person she can think about is Lin. She’s going to die here, and she will never be able to see Lin again, to hold her. She will never be able to tell her how much she is loved. She won’t wake up in the middle of the night to the apartment door slamming, won’t get to heal her injured wife after a fight taken on too soon. Kya thinks about Lin’s eyes, how the green intensifies every time she looks at her. Her pupils blow wide every time they kiss, and she has soft, delicate lines around the edges from laughter. For such a hard woman, Lin is so soft. And Kya will never feel her again. She looks up to the airbender holding her head up, beckons her nearer. “Please,” Kya begs softly. “If I don’t—” and then she’s coughing. Blood spatters against the back of her teeth, and it takes more energy to catch her breath again than she has. The acolyte is looking down at her now, waiting for a response, but Kya shakes her head and reverts to her silent seclusion.

She doesn’t expect to see Suyin charge through the cave, and her heart stutters. If Su is here, then something must have happened to Lin. She feels nauseous all of the sudden. Her heart is beating far too fast for her mangled body to handle. She has to go, has to see Lin. When she makes to stand, two of the airbenders grip her arms to keep her upright. Her leg is surely broken. She can feel her hip shattered in two places, and the blood inside her is no longer kept together by the webs of veins and arteries under her skin. She needs water, and if she does not get it, she will die. But Kya’s mind is working too fast, because Su is there and Lin _isn’t_ , and if something has happened to Lin, then it would be better to just let herself die, too. There’s blood rushing in her ears, and she can vaguely hear the airbenders supporting her body telling her to _sit down_ , _take it easy_ , but she has to make it outside, has to know what happened to Lin. The loud, gruff bark of her wife echoes throughout the cave, and when Kya turns, she sees Lin supporting Bumi as he limps pitifully next to her. Their eyes meet, and Kya is sure in that moment that, if she were able, she would be sprinting into Lin’s arms. She releases a choked sob at the sight of her wife. Lin’s eyes soften, slightly, a tear treks down her cheek and runs off her sharp chin. _Lin is alive_ , Kya releases a breath, _she’s alive._

For all her efforts, Kya has never seen Lin look so scared. While she’s cooped up in her hospital room, Lin never leaves her side. She expects people to question it, but her shadows have obviously rubbed off on the Chief of Police as well, because no one seems to notice the two women sitting silently in the Air Temple infirmary. “I thought I was going to lose you,” Lin weeps, head in her hands. “I saw you being dragged by those airbenders, and I thought—I thought you were dying.” Kya doesn’t smile, but she reaches her fingers out to brush the hair away from Lin’s eyes. Her fingertips pad over her cheeks, down the twin scars buried in them, and curve softly around her neck.

“I was.” Kya says plainly, and Lin buckles, releasing an agonizing mixture between a choked sob and a wail. She keens forward and buries her head in the mattress next to the waterbender’s side, and Kya fiddles with her betrothal necklace. “But I didn’t.”

* * *

Two years go by quickly. After her recovery, Kya makes several trips to and from the Southern Water Tribe to help in the efforts to heal Korra, but there is nothing _physically_ wrong with the girl. Not anymore. Her entire recovery now depends on her mental strength, and while Kya can seal broken veins and stitch together wounds with water, there is nothing more she can do for the Avatar. So, she returns to Republic City for what she hopes is the last time. She’s tired, and she wants nothing more to stay forever at Lin’s side now. It’s a longshot, she knows, especially with the growing tension in the Earth Kingdom, and she knows Lin is worried about Su. It struck her as a surprise when she learned of their rekindling their relationship, but Lin seems somewhat nonplussed. Kya can’t complain. They spend the weeks she is there together, holed up in their apartment when Lin isn’t working. They revel once more in the soft caresses that the privacy of their secret affords them, and Kya thinks that she may be falling even more in love with her wife with every passing second. She’s entirely enthralled by the way Lin’s chuckle causes her heart to stutter, the way the metalbender tosses her looks over her shoulder when she heads to the bedroom every night, the way they wake up each morning, entwined in both body and spirit. Kya smiles, and the shadows recede. She feels loved, cherished, and it is something she only feels when Lin is around.

Lin cooks her breakfast that morning. It’s a simple serving of Yum Cha and Dim Sum, but she places it on a platter and carries it into their bedroom. They sit nude and wrapped in the light cotton bedsheets as they eat together. The sunrise bleeds warm, red light over the room, and Kya is struck by how suddenly radiant Lin looks in the morning light. It covers her skin like amber, and her hair glows softly around her face. Kya leans in then, takes the Bao that Lin is about to eat from her and places their chopsticks on the platter. Her wife is confused at first, but when the waterbender reaches forward and tucks her hair behind her ear, she grins. Kya’s hand wraps around the base of her neck, and she tugs Lin forward. The usually stoic Chief of Police chuckles, wrapping her arms around Kya’s soft frame and kissing her lips gently.

Lin is late to work that day, not that she would change anything about her morning. But being late, means dropping Kya off at the hospital on her way to headquarters, and it’s in her sleek, black Satomobile that she gets the call. Kya sits next to her, dazed as she looks out over the whirring mess of cars and people the city offers her and fiddles with the vial of water hanging from her neck. The radio crackles to life, and she has enough time to return her gaze to her wife before she answers.

 _“Command station to Flying Boar, 10-63, over_.”

“Command station, this is Flying Boar. 10-2, 10-12, 10-5, over.” Lin barks, and she turns to look apologetically at Kya. There’s more crackling from the radio, and the officer’s voice comes in clearly once more.

_“Flying Boar, we have a 10-80 and 904 in progress. 10-87 West Kyoshi Avenue and Roku Boulevard. Code 3, requesting backup immediately.”_

“Copy, Command Station. ETA 10 minutes. 10-23, over.” Lin hangs up the radio then, turns to Kya, and smiles guiltily. “I am so sorry, my love, but there’s been an explosion downtown, and they need my presence immediately. Do you want me to drop you off here?” Kya shakes her head.

“No, if there’s been an explosion, then there are probably injured civilians. I can help on scene.” Lin nods then, and she flicks a switch on the roof of the Satomobile. The lights on top come to life, and the engine roars loudly as she races through the city. The buildings become a blur of brown and red as they pass, the people Kya was once watching disappear into the distance. They run red lights and stop signs, turn sharply down narrow avenues, until a billow of smoke is finally visible over one of the buildings. It’s been blown to pieces, and on the street below, Lin’s officers attempt to enter the building. They are forced back by bursts of fire and lightening.

Lin pulls the car into a screeching halt and picks the radio back up. “Command Station, this is Flying Boar. 10-97, over.” The radio crackles in her hand.

 _“Flying Boar, 10-97, copy.”_ The Chief shuts the engine off and all but jumps out of the car. The sunlight glints off of her uniform, blinds Kya for a moment before she can catch up to her wife.

The scene is even more devastating up close, though according to one of the lieutenants, the building had been evacuated long before the explosion. _No civilian casualties_ , Kya thinks. As she looks at the building now, she can see through the tiny holes created by the blast. The officers at its base are attempting to enter despite pushback from hostile benders. Kya glances over at her wife and notices that she must be thinking the same thing. “Get me five officers.” Lin orders. Kya shrugs off her shoulder cloak and rolls up her sleeves. When she moves to stand next to Lin and the other officers, her wife narrows her eyes. “You’re not going.”

Kya holds up her hands. “I’m going, Chief, and that’s final. If there are any civilians on any of the top floors, they may need to be healed before we can move them. And if not, then you could use all the help you can get taking out those triad members.” Lin merely grumbles in response but relents after a moment. They set off to the side of the building, and the metalbenders use their steel spools to lift themselves gracefully up the brick wall. They swing to and fro before hopping through one of the holes the explosion made. Kya quickly follows, pulling water from a fountain across the street and freezing it around a flagpole above the entryway. She slingshots herself through the hole in the exterior wall and rolls gracefully to her feet next to Lin. They share a look, and something flitters between their eyes in that moment. This is not the first time Kya has joined Lin on one of her busts, but it is the first time Kya has been there in a non-healer-only capacity. The two women stalk their way through the building back-to-back as they spin through doors. The other officers follow suit, clearing rooms and floors quickly.

When they make it down to the third floor, the smoke is thick and black and _suffocating_. Lin can immediately tell they are not alone, can feel the vibrations of footsteps through the metal encasing her feet, and she lets out a shout of warning to her officers before they are almost entirely overtaken by triad members. Two men step forward through the thick clouds of smoke and attack the officers behind Lin and Kya. Two more appear to their right, and to their left, Lightning Bolt Zolt swaggers into the room, a cat-like grin on his face. He says nothing as he charges Kya, blasting fire through the hot air, and it sears her shoulder as it passes her. She hisses, dodges another, but bends her knees and pivots on her front foot as she launches two ice shards directly at him. One misses. The other rips a hole through the bottom left portion of his velvet red jacket. The look on his face is scathing, almost as hot as the fire he bends, and Zolt charges forward with more force than before.

Kya can barely see Lin through the smoke, but she knows her wife is up and fighting from the shrill screams of grown men that fill the room. As she focuses on Zolt, the rest of the world seems to fade away. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time, but she continues on. After landing a hard blow to Zolt’s chest, the triad leader barrels back into an overturned desk, lifts his feet, and kicks. Two streams of fire tear through the air right at Kya, and she doesn’t have the time to move out of the way. So, she braces for impact. Her heart skips a beat as she prepares for the flames to lick over her skin, squeezing her eyes shut, but the groan of the stone floor rumbles through her instead. When she opens her eyes again, she’s met with solid stone, and she hears Lin over the chaos of the fight. “Kya, pay attention!”

Kya redoubles her efforts then, backs herself into Lin where she knows she is safe and continues her assault on Zolt. The two women twist and bend. Lin shoulders the impact of the other triad members in the room, mostly earthbenders and a few firebenders, as Kya faces off against their leader. More blows come barreling at them, and they nimbly evade. Kya rolls over Lin’s back as she ducks, pivots her foot, and freezes two of the men to the ground. The other officers rush to get them in cuffs, and when they are finally subdued with platinum, the waterbender turns to help her wife take down Lightning Bolt Zolt. She meets his eyes, and there’s a fury in them that she can’t place, a malice that is licking at the fear buried deep within her. It ignites something in her, and with a feral scream, Kya summons water to her hands and lunges for the man. He shoots back at her, dances over the debris and the worn stone floor with ease. Kya stumbles slightly, and it is Lin who picks up the slack. She lashes out with her metal cables, securing one arm and pulling the firebender towards her. He only smirks. His hands come up and as he nears Lin, he shoots off two quick bursts of lightning that travel up her armor. She goes down with a petrifying scream, and Kya’s blood runs cold.

The waterbender is no longer thinking when she growls and charges the triad leader. He has his hands in the air with a devious smirk, and the world around him goes dark as she zeroes in on him with her bending. They’re only half a room apart now, and Kya slices through the air with long sleeves of water. Zolt rolls under them and comes up just a few feet to the left. Kya smirks. She swirls her arms close to her chest and forces the water through the air, freezing it mid stroke. But Zolt steps calmly to the side, and there is the horrifying _squelch_ of ice piercing metal and flesh. The room freezes. Lightning Bolt Zolt freezes.

Kya meets Lin’s eyes. Her wife is standing before her, only half a room away, with a hole ripped through her stomach. Lin’s nimble fingers come down and grip the shard of ice and pull. The waterbender lets out a long, desperate scream of her name before she rushes forward. Lin’s knees meet the solid stone floor before Kya reaches her, falls onto her hands, but she’s still staring straight at Kya. “No. No, no, no, no!” Kya screams. She drops down next to Lin, her hands clammy and wet from the water. “No, Lin. No. No. I—I can’t. Please, Lin. No.” She’s muttering. From her left she hears a chuckle, and in her manic state, she reaches out with her bending, senses the blood in Zolt’s veins, and stops it in its tracks. The man falls, dead before he even hits the ground.

Kya doesn’t care though. She’s with Lin. Her wife is barely breathing now, and the waterbender’s hands frantically move over her body trying to heal the damage that she had done. Then, it hits her. _The damage I did. I did this._ Suddenly, she can’t breathe, but she doesn’t dare lose focus. Instead, she focuses on Lin’s breathing, the choked, wet inhales she makes every few seconds. Gripping Lin’s shoulders, she hauls her over onto her back. _Gravity can put pressure on the wound, help her not bleed out_ , she recalls. Lin gapes at her from the floor. Her beautiful Lin with dark hair and bright green eyes, whose hands are as calloused as her heart, but who give love freely just the same. Lin, who had given her the moon. Lin, who had sobbed into her chest when her bending was taken, who held her for weeks after Zaheer, who wasn’t quick to anger in their own home. Lin, who loved her so passionately within the privacy of their secret love, who made the shadows go away, who cupped her face and whispered words of love and breathed life into her very soul. The world stops spinning, comes crashing down on them both in that moment, and Kya sobs her words of apology. Tears slip down her cheeks and roll off onto the metal of her wife’s uniform as Kya works to undo what is irreparable. Lin looks at her again, lifts her hand to cup Kya’s cheek much like she had all those years ago. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. In her eyes, Kya can see the extremities of her soul. Lin pours every ounce of herself into her eyes in that second, giving herself one last time to her wife. Her eyes slip closed, and her heart stops beating. Kya’s breaks.

* * *

No one is sure how long Kya is in the building for, but eventually, Tenzin and Bumi get a call from Saikhan saying that he needs them urgently. When they show up, they are greeted by the forlorn faces of metalbending officers who guide them to a small tent set up in front of the explosion site. “I apologize,” one of the officers whispers with a thick voice. He clears his throat. “We tried to move her, but your sister just wouldn’t let go. This is as far out of the building as we could get them. We, uh, we tried to give them some privacy.” He leaves the brothers, then, to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

They step forward into the small tent, and the air leaves them both immediately. Kya is curled around Lin’s limp frame, muttering gentle words into her hair. There’s blood covering them both, though no wounds are visible. It drips down Lin’s arms and onto the pavement. When the metalbender doesn’t move, Tenzin leans in to check for her pulse. There is none. “Kya,” he whispers. “Kya, she’s gone. We have to let them take her.” There are tears streaming down his own face, and Kya whips her head around violently.

“I’m not leaving her.” She barks. “I won’t. I—I fixed her.” And she has. She has fixed Lin. The wounds that once marred her skin are no more, sealed off with Kya’s healing hands. The veins under her skin are no longer separated but have been joined back together with bloodbending. She’s fixed. “I’m not leaving her.”

Bumi steps forward with his arms open before he kneels next to Kya. His hands slip over her shoulders, and for a moment, he just leans on her. “Come on, little sis, Lin wouldn’t want this.” Suddenly, Kya is furious, and she spins around and to her feet.

“You don’t know anything! You have no idea what Lin would want. None!” Kya advances on her brother, pokes her finger into his chest so that he has to shuffle backwards. “Neither of you do! She’s mine. Mine!” The waterbender screams. She returns to Lin’s side, curling herself once more around her body. “She’s my wife.” Kya sobs.

Tenzin and Bumi share a look. Neither know what the correct path to take is, so they sit, and they listen with surprise and tears in their eyes as Kya sobs silently over the body of her dead wife. Ten minutes go by, and several officers stop by to check in. Tenzin knows that they don’t mean any harm, that they truly do need to take Lin away now, and he nudges Bumi’s leg before motioning over to Kya. Bumi must understand, because he nods solemnly before he lifts himself to his feet, shuffles slowly over to his sister, and wraps his arms around her. It’s tender at first, and Kya melts into the embrace, but then, Bumi’s arms are tightening around her and lifting her away from Lin, and Kya _screams_. It’s a scream she knows well, has heard a thousand times. It’s a scream that plays over and over again in her head, a scream that summons images of tiny coffins to her mind. She claws at Bumi’s hand as she kicks and screams, and eventually, her brother is forced to release her. She stumbles forward, falling to her knees on the cold pavement. She lets out heaving sobs, then, struggles to catch her breath. Leaning forward, one hand comes to clutch as her chest, and she feels it. She feels the hum of the spirit water tied around her neck. It thrums through the vial like a soft heartbeat, and Kya gasps, ripping the vial from around her neck.

Kya crawls over to Lin, then, and sets both of her hands on her wife’s cheeks. For the first time, Kya has no idea what to do, how to use spirit water to bring someone _back_ , and she isn’t even entirely sure that her plan will work. She lifts her hands. Her nimble fingers smooth over the vial at the end of its leather chain, and with a _pop_ , the cork falls out. She calls the water to her then; it’s already glowing before she even touches it. It glows brighter when it reaches her hands, and she moves to place them over Lin’s chest. The water glows still, but nothing happens.

Lin does not wake. For a moment, Kya feels dejected. Her last option has failed her, and death has now come to collect its prize. Her battle is lost, her wife gone. She steels her resolve, and with the iron conviction of her mother, Kya vaporizes the spirit water, breathes the glowing mist into her lungs. She leans down, opens Lin’s mouth with her hand. Her fingertips brush over the divot under Lin’s bottom lip, and she leans forward, seals their mouths together, and _exhales_. The glow of the spirit water radiates through the veins just under Lin's skin so bright that the waterbender can see the greenish hue of her arteries through her pale complexion. The hand Kya has set on Lin’s chest twitches as it pulls at the blood in Lin’s heart, compresses the organ, and releases. She does this again, and again, and again until there is a gasp from below her. Lin’s body twitches, and the younger woman sucks in a heaving breath. Kya sits back, tears in her eyes and shoulders shaking as she watches her wife sputter for air. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand as she cries. Lin’s chest moves up and down underneath her armor, and glowing, white eyes flutter open to meet Kya’s.

Lin raises one shaky hand and settles it delicately against Kya’s thigh. She’s breathing heavily, still processing what’s happened, and when her now dimming, green eyes dance around the room, she’s met with the sight of Tenzin and Bumi, both staring in shock and awe. They sputter a few syllables, but neither has the words to speak. Instead, they slowly back out of the tent after a few moments.

Lin turns her face to Kya then, and she’s struck by just how broken her wife looks. The hand resting on her thigh slides up and slowly grips her wrist, pulling her down into the metalbender’s arms. Kya is an incoherent mess of jumbled words and soft _I love you_ ’s, and Lin mutters soothing words into her soot-covered hair. They stay like this for long moments, until the reality of Lin being alive _again_ settles. Kya still doesn’t release her, but when Lin sits up, she moves alongside her. Her hands support Lin’s waist as she tries to stand. She’s weak, the loss of blood much greater than she expects. Her head spins on her shoulders, and her legs shake until Kya forces her to sit back down. So, they stay like that, in a seated embrace until Tenzin comes back with a medic and a stretcher.

* * *

When Lin recovers, the two women settle once more into a routine. They take lunch together at the station nearly every day, and at night, they fall into bed in each other’s arms. It’s soft whispers and gentle caresses, ghostly fingertips tracing lines over muscled shoulder and nails running through white hair. In the morning, Kya watches Lin breathe, the soft rise and fall of her chest. Occasionally, she leans forward and places her head on her wife’s breast just to hear the steady thumping of her heart against her ribs. Lin has caught her doing this a few times, and she is always quick to comfort Kya, but the waterbender shakes her head and with tears in her eyes, leans in to kiss her lips. The morning light washes over them, paints them in hues of peach and blue until the sun meets the sky. To Kya, the only thing brighter is Lin. The waterbender is grateful for the shadows, grateful for the anonymity of being hidden in plain sight, but she loves the way Lin chases the shadows away every morning. It’s a sight she is sure she will never get tired of. Lin’s face glows in the soft light of day; she smiles in a way that makes Kya’s heart flutter. When Lin looks at her, Kya feels like she’s flying and falling at the same time, and when she kisses her, she’s back on the ground, safe in her arms. Kya thinks often of her travels, of what she learned from the healers across the world. She thinks of her father, of the Air Temple and the dusty scrolls she had found discarded within its walls. She thinks of the fluidity of air in the body. She thinks of how fluidly and freely Lin gives her love, as easy as breath. She thinks of the beginning of life. Life is created on an inhale and extinguished at its final release. Silently, Kya thinks that this may be the one time life was created on an exhale.

**Author's Note:**

> Um. So, this prompt came to me randomly, and now it's here. I'm actually sorry about this one, y'all.


End file.
